Just Don't Be A Snake
by Malandra
Summary: It's not a snake, but it is a tentacle monster. Wandering in the woods late at night (as Winchesters tend to be incline to do), Dean finds himself suddenly very closely acquainted with a tentacle monster. PWP. This is non-con (then again, it's also tentacle porn). You have been warned.


Dean cursed quietly as a twig snapped under his foot, the flashlight darting around. He found nothing but bushes, though his spidey-sense kept him wary. He knew Sam was somewhere west of him, but as he spun around to face a slithering sound he swore he'd heard, he wished he had his brother with him.

He reached a clearing in the forest, staying at the edge and washing it in light before stepping onto the grass. The moonlight fell unobstructed on the clearing, illuminating it in an unearthly glow.

There it was again. Dean whirled around, the circle of light bouncing wildly as he whipped out his gun. That slithering sound. He set his jaw, forcing his racing heart to calm and surveying the gloom carefully. _Please don't be a giant snake, just please, no snakes._

He searching the clearing and the area around it thoroughly, wandering back into the center of the little circle afterwards. Dean eyed the moon, judging the time by its height. Where the hell was Sam? They were supposed to be meeting up soon, and Dean was getting nervous.

He sighed and nearly put his gun away before something slick curled around his ankle and tugged. His reaction was instantaneous. His gun came up, fired into the dark, and he wrenched his ankle free. Stumbled back a step, he shot a few more rounds in the direction the thing had been trying to pull him, scarcely managing to stay on his feet as he retreated.

His heart pounded in his throat, flashlight dropped and forgotten on the ground. He barely had time to recover when there was something lashing out from the tree, moving too quickly for him to shoot. It wrapped around the barrel of his gun and yanked it from his hands, disappearing back into the forest.

Dean looked around wildly. What the hell was that? It had looked something like a vine, but unless they were hunting a Pokemon, he didn't know of any monsters that used vines. And Sam must've heard the gunshots. Where the hell was he?

Dean stiffened when he felt another own of those things wrapping around his ankle again. He went to stomp on it, only to find that his other ankle had been restrained too. He glanced over his shoulder and cussed when he realized he'd backed himself into the woods again and was being dragged away from the light of the clearing.

Two more things wound around his wrists, holding them above his head. They held fast despite his yanking, snarling, and endless barrage of expletives. He was so busy trying to free himself that he barely noticed a fifth thing – _tentacle_, he realized with growing dread – lazily slipping under his pant leg. It trailed up his skin, past his knee and was stopped there when he bent his leg to pull the fabric tight and block its path. The tentacle pulled away and Dean let out a relieved breath that turned into a shocked gasp when a much bigger tentacle wrapped around his middle and lifted him off the ground. He thrashed wildly, but their grips only tightened and he felt his stomach drop. _I'm so fucked_.

The monster – wherever it was, he couldn't even see five feet past his nose, and the clearing was a mocking light in the distance – pulled his hands over his head, forcing him to straighten out his legs, and at first he thought it was going to rip him limb from limb. Which might've been preferable once he grasped what it actually wanted.

More tentacles appeared out of the dark – Jesus Christ, how many were there? – and went to his shoes, tugging them off and tossing them away. At the same time, another pair worked his jacket off, and he mourned its loss for a moment before there was a tentacle at his crotch. He tensed, but it just seemed to be exploring the fly on his jeans. In a swift movement, it undid his pants and yanked them off, leaving him sputtering in his boxers.

_No no no no no, _he thought, desperately bucking his hips away as a tentacle waved lazily by his groin, prodding every once in a while. It worked its way underneath his boxers and he shuddered in revulsion, his struggling seeming only to encourage it. It trailed lethargically over his thigh and nuzzled his balls for a moment before creeping down to his hole. Dean's eyes went wide and he clenched tightly against the probing, but the tentacle retreated and he let out a breath.

He thought he was safe for a moment until the remainder of his clothes were practically ripped off and he hissed against the cold. The tentacles around his ankles pushed his legs up, ignoring his pained grunts as they forced his knees to his chest. He didn't fucking bend like that, but the monster paid no heed to the sore stretch in his muscles. It took him a second to realize that this position left his ass in completely open to attack, and none of his thrashing could fix that. The thin tentacle was back, sliding between his cheeks and tickling his balls every once in a while. He felt it suddenly get slick and it started circling his hole. Dean bucked his hips away, but the thick tentacle around his middle held him in place. He shouted curses into the forest, but that didn't stop the tentacle at his ass from pushing into him, leaving a wet trail behind it.

He was getting raped by a tentacle monster. Part of Dean was expecting to wake up on his laptop and find some tentacle porn on his screen. This couldn't be happening. This only happened to anime girls in bad hentai. But the tentacle in his ass started fucking him lazily and he was wrenched back to reality.

"Ah– fuck, stop!" It didn't seemed to hear or understand. Dean let out a string of swears.

Lube. That was what the slickness was. It was lubing him up. Dean nearly sobbed right then, but he held himself together. He'd find a way out of this, biting his lip against a moan as the tentacle brushed his prostate. He was hunter and a grown-ass man, he could control his vocal chords.

Speaking of which... Dean opened his mouth to shout for Sam – _he's gotta be somewhere close by_ – and nearly got the sound out before a fat tentacle pushed between his lips and almost into his throat. He gagged, making to bite down, but a smaller one wedged between his molars and held his jaw open. Despite himself, Dean flushed as the tentacle rolled slowly in and out of his mouth, stretching his lips around it. He tried to yell again, but the tentacle retaliated by thrusting deep into his throat and cutting off his air. He couldn't move his head, couldn't bite or pull away, his vision was starting to black out...

Dean sucked in a huge breath when the tentacle pulled away, only allowed a moment to breathe before it was back in his mouth. He was distracted from it as he felt a second thin tentacle prodding at his rim, inching its way in and joining the first. He squeezed his eyes shut, hands curling into fists. This couldn't be happening.

His eyes flew open when he felt something on his chest. Two more little tentacles were playing with his nipples, coaxing them to attention, much to his shame. Dean nearly arched his chest up when they started sucking, matching pace with the tentacles in his mouth and his ass. Dean's face flushed pink, his expression torn between fury and helpless pleasure.

He was about to resume struggling with new vigor when one of the tentacle in his hole tapped against his prostate. He shuddered and it did it again, pressing against the bundle of nerves and rubbing it relentlessly. A moan escaped his throat, muffled around the tentacle fucking into his mouth. His ass was lifted higher, a third tentacle joining the other two. His skin burned with the stretch and he felt more lube slicking up his insides, making obscene squelching noises as the tentacles thrusting into him faster.

Dean was ashamed to feel blood rushing to his cock, closing his eyes and somehow trying to ignore the tentacles sucking insistently on his nipples, rolling into his mouth, fucking his ass. One more curled around the base of his cock, squeezing tight, and he groaned.

The tentacles in his hole were gaining momentum, twisting together and thrusting against his prostate with increasing force. His eyebrows pushed up and together, eyes half-lidded. This was violating and demeaning and so wrong and it felt so fucking good that he hated himself for even thinking it. His whole body rocked with the each thrust, his breath coming in muffled _mmh mmh mmh_s around the tentacle in his mouth as it thruster faster as well. Dean got a tight, hot feeling in his gut and he flushed deeply, mortified by his body's reaction.

The tangy taste of tentacle monster precome on his tongue was all the warning he got before it was coming down his throat, then pulling out and shooting onto his face. He felt it splash onto his cheeks, his nose, across his lips, and into his panting mouth. Before he had the time to be properly outraged, he felt the three tentacles in his ass nail his prostate one more time, making him shout, before they were coming into him. He was shocked for a moment, dazed by the sudden spike of pleasure. He felt them pull out, monster jizz dripping from his hole, and he squeezed his eyes shut again, disgusted with himself.

He was suddenly flipped so he was facing the ground, hands pulled behind his back, knees yanked apart and ass in the air in a doggy style sort of position. The three tentacles had disappeared, and it made him very nervous not to be able to see them.

He started to yell in protest now that his mouth was free, but there was a sharp lash across one of his ass cheeks and his shout came out as an indignant yelp. It smacked his ass again, drawing a grunt through his teeth. Again and again and again, and Dean realized it was _spanking_ him. He couldn't hold back little gasps or cries with each hit, and his traitorous dick hardened further, the tentacle around the base squeezing.

The spanking finally stopped, but Dean didn't let himself relax. He knew something else was coming. He could feel the monster's spunk drying on his face, dripping from his hole, and the tentacles on his nipples slipped away, leaving the forest quiet except for the sound of his own labored breathing. Dean twisted as much as he could to look over his shoulder, eyes widening at what he saw.

There was a thick tentacle waving slowly by his ass. It was thicker than the three from before combined, and it didn't seem to care that he'd need to be stretched more before taking one that size.

"No no no no, no fucking way!"

He bucked his hips away, only to be restrained by a few more tentacles. The thick one slid up his leg, giving his balls a squeeze before slipping between his cheeks. It started thrusting lazily, sliding through his crack and smearing precome over his skin. Dean vaguely begged the universe not to send any hikers or anything into the forest, because he would probably die of mortification if anyone saw him. He was covered in sweat with monster come and lube running down his legs and his ass in the air for everyone to see.

The thick tentacle prodded against his entrance, and Dean tensed up instinctually. He felt two thinner ones pulled his cheeks apart, exposing his hole to the big tentacle. He gritted his teeth as it prodded, never quite pushing in, but probing enough to make his rim burn at the stretch.

Before Dean could muster up the strength to fight, it thrust into him in one hard motion. He shouted, eyes shooting wide and prickling with tears. It started a brutal pace, fucking into his ass faster and harder than previous three, flawlessly slamming into his prostate. He was filled with a combination of pain and pleasure, each thrust pulling a wordless shout or yell from him.

Another tentacle was fighting to push in beside the thick one, making Dean's eyes water as he was stretched painfully. It managed to worm in next to the first, thrusting arrhythmically, so there was always pressure on his abused prostate. The stimulation was becoming too much, and just when he thought he couldn't take anymore, there was another wrapping around his cock, twisting, stroking, teasing. He couldn't even breath properly anymore, his exhales coming in needy moans or cries and inhales ragged and desperate.

Somehow, another tentacle was working its way into his ass and it went straight for his prostate, forgoing thrusting to just rub and massage the bundle of nerves. The other two fucked him enthusiastically, slamming into his body and forcing screams past his lips. He was so hard it _hurt_, the tentacle around the base of his cock holding on in a vice grip.

He didn't know when he'd started talking, but his voice was raw and hoarse, catching every time the tentacles thrust into him. "Pleasepleaseplease just- _fuck_, I need- need to come, _please_."

There was a heat coiled impossible tight in his gut, setting his whole body on fire and threatening to make him explode. There might've been tears running down his face, but he was so out of it, he couldn't feel anything but the overwhelming _need_ to release.

Finally, the thick tentacle pistoned into him fiercely before it came, simultaneously colliding with his prostate and letting go of the base of his cock. He orgasmed with a ragged scream, his vision whiting out even as he felt his ass being filled with the monster's spunk. He felt something splatter over his back and realized that the other two tentacles must've pulled out and were spilling across his ass and back. The monster's grip on him weakened and he was slowly lowered to the ground, barely reacting as he felt the tentacles give his ass one last spank and slide away.

Dean lay panting on the ground, vaguely noting what a mess he was. There was monster come on his face, his back, his ass, _in_ his ass, down his throat... His own come painted his chest and stomach, sweat coating his body, but his mind was too fogged to do anything but keep him breathing.

There were feet in front of his face now. Someone was saying something, but Dean just let his eyes slide shut. _Shut up. I'm tired._ He passed out gratefully, letting unconsciousness swallow him up.

When he woke, Dean's mind was still hazy. He could feel his feet swinging and a warm chest against his side, arms under his back and knees. Oh. He was being carried. He blinked blearily, vaguely remembering the feet and the voice from before he'd passed out. Sam's grim face looked down at him.

"Sammy..?" Dean mumbled, not quite sure what was going on.

His brother ignored him, kicking open a door and depositing Dean on a bed - _wow, either Sam's gotten stronger or I've gotten skinnier, I didn't know he could carry me _- before disappearing into the motel bathroom. Dean rolled onto his side and squinted, scrubbing a hand over his face. He groaned lowly as everything rushed back to him, the pain in his ass a reminder that it hadn't just been some weird hentai dream. He felt like he'd sat on a baseball bat.

Dean rubbed his face again and was pleasantly surprised to find that it came away clean. He looked down at his chest. Sam must've wiped him down. At the thought of his brother, all his shame and embarrassment came crashing down on him. Dean flopped back on the bed, staring sightlessly up at the ceiling. He'd let that monster use him. He'd fucking _begged_ for it at the end. How many times had it come in him or on him? He'd never orgasmed so hard in his life as he did when that monster was fucking him. The next wave of mortification hit him like a tsunami. Sam must've heard him. That's how his brother found him. Those had been Sam's feet, Sam's voice. His brother found him covered in spunk and sweat and thoroughly fucked.

Dean went to get up and realized he was wearing Sam's jacket. He yanked it off and dug through his duffle bag for clothes. When he straightened, he caught sight of himself in a mirror. There was a red welt on his ass from where the monster spanked him. Dean tugged on boxers, sweatpants, and a T-shirt, flinging himself back down onto his bed and wishing he could just die.

In the silence, he heard Sam's voice in the bathroom. It sounded like he was crying. Dean frowned, his mortification overridden by his brotherly instincts.

"Sammy?" His voice sounded - there was no other way to describe it - fucked-out. He cleared his sore throat, trying again.

"Sam? You okay?"

He realized after a moment that Sam wasn't crying. He was moaning. Under the noise his brother was making, Dean could hear the slick sound of skin sliding over skin. Sam was jerking off. Dean's brow furrowed, biting his lip as he heard Sam groan a word long and low. It sounded suspiciously like 'Dean'.

Water ran for a moment and the door opened again. Dean stared at his brother and he stared back. Sam abruptly looked away.

"You okay?" he mumbled, as if he didn't already know the answer.

"M'fine," Dean lied gruffly.

There was a tense silence. Sam opened his mouth and Dean put up a finger. "Stop. It's not your fault. I know you got to me as soon as you could. I'm fine."

Sam shook his head. "That's not it." He hesitated. "I was there almost the whole time. I watched."

Dean's jaw dropped. Sam had watched. And let the monster use Dean. Fury filled him as he connected everything. And now Sam just finished jerking off. He got off on seeing Dean like that.

Sam started again before he could say anything. "Hey, I knew it wasn't going to hurt you." He winced at the glare Dean shot him. "Not that much. I knew what it was before we went into the forest and I knew what it would do. I figured...you needed a way to accept that you like that kind of stuff."

Dean's mouth opened and closed wordlessly as he tried to find the right way to express what he was feeling. Which was mainly, _what the fuck_. "Dude- you- I didn't- What the hell, dude?"

Sam grinned a bit when he realized Dean wasn't going to kill him. "Look, I know you get off on being forced sometimes. I know you watch that weird tentacle porn. Figured you'd wanna try it."

"Then fucking ask me first!" Dean couldn't deny that his brother was right. His shame had stemmed from how much he'd liked it, how turned on he got at being used. It wasn't something he'd dared to share with his brother, but clearly Sam was more observant than Dean gave him credit for.

Sam shrugged shamelessly. "It wouldn't be the same. But Dean..." Sam's voice dropped an octave, his eyes darkening, "You have no idea how hot it was to see you like that. All covered in come – on your back, your ass, your _face_ - screaming your lungs out, taking that big one up the ass... Shit, man."

Dean's ears flushed. "You're a fucking dick, you know that?"

Sam grinned broadly. "I knew you liked it." He started for Dean, only to have to dodge when he kicked out at him.

"No fucking way. You're not getting any of this for a week. You're not getting anything for a month!"

Sam just sat back and smirked as Dean fumed. The older Winchester ranted and raved, throwing a book at him at one point, but Sam just sat calmly and waited for Dean to get over his embarrassment. Finally, Dean ran out of steam and sent his brother a withering glare.

"Get over here, you smug bastard."

Sam grinned and joined his brother in bed.


End file.
